


Side Order of Soulmate

by BlimeyOhLimey



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-07-27 05:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20040937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlimeyOhLimey/pseuds/BlimeyOhLimey
Summary: One fateful night brings Waverly and Nicole together over a bowl of fries in a French ski resort.Where will their meeting lead?





	1. Movement

“OK, OK, calm down. What’s happened?” was all Chrissy could ask before Waverly’s sobs at the other end of the phone drowned out any further conversation. After a long pause, Waverly was able to tell her best friend why she was calling so late at night:

“I can’t stay here any longer. They hate me. I just want to leave. There’s nothing here for me,” as she resumed her crying.

“You’re obviously upset,” Chrissy surmised. “Look, don’t go back to the house just yet, it’ll only make the situation worse.”

“Go find a bar that’s still open and have a drink.”

Little did Waverly know, but Chrissy’s suggestion would turn out to be the best advice she would ever be given by her friend.

Waverly had been restless for some time. Her job at a UK national newspaper was going well and she had a very active social life, with emphasis on the ‘very.’ But, for all the buzz of London, she yearned for something, somewhere beyond. Unable to contain her wanderlust, she had decided to quit her job and go travelling. Anywhere, as long as she got to see more than office walls. She had asked her best friend Chrissy to go with her, but Chrissy had declined explaining she was happier travelling in her head than on some rickety old bus in the back of beyond.

Travelling took Waverly to the other side of the world, where she stayed longer than intended. Working at a ski resort in New Zealand, driving camper vans across deserts, crewing yachts around the Fiji Islands, her horizons and worldview had been expanded by her experiences. Three years later, with more than a few adventure stories to tell and an incredible suntan, she returned to London to take up where she had left off. Only a few months back into her old life she still hadn’t settled, her itchy feet telling her she needed a new adventure. She had met someone while travelling who worked for a major airline and was loving the freedom, plus free travel, such a job offered. The idea had stuck with Waverly and as she sat gazing out of the window of her office, she couldn’t help but feel this could be a good line of work for her to pursue. Her application had been successful and she was put on the waiting list to be interviewed.

There was just one tiny problem. She had applied when the airline was only employing crew for its short haul European flights, not long haul which Waverly would have preferred. All short haul crew were required to know a second European language. Waverly didn’t know a second European language, but small details like that wouldn’t stop her, reasoning she had got out of trickier situations while travelling. Chrissy had suggested she go stay with their mutual friend Shae on the outskirts of Paris for a few weeks to learn French, a suggestion that was batted away quickly by Waverly.

“No way, I can’t stand Shae’s partner Robinet. He’s too Parisian for my liking.”

“True,” Chrissy agreed. “So, what’s your plan if you’re not going to go to Shae?”

“So, I’ve been looking at nanny jobs in France. I can work for a family, learn French and hopefully that’ll be enough to get me the job.” 

“Right, OK. Sounds like a plan,” Chrissy replied, realising this girl was on her way again. “How long will you be gone?”

“Couple of months, I’m guessing. That should give me enough time to have some fun.”

Chrissy knew exactly what Waverly meant by ‘have some fun.’ Waverly had never been shy in meeting people. In fact, that had always been her superpower, her ability to make friends easily wherever she went. Chrissy, in contrast, was more reserved, letting Waverly do all the socialising while she sat back, watching the room gravitate towards her pretty, brunette friend with the sparkling eyes. Waverly had ended a long relationship with Charlie Hardy just before setting out on her first round of travelling. Charlie, or Champ as he was known to his friends, had been good to Waverly but their relationship had fizzled as Waverly’s desire to see the world took hold. She had had a few flings while travelling, but seldom stayed in one place long enough for anything to become serious. In many ways that suited Waverly. She didn’t want to be tied down to anyone, or anywhere, preferring to keep moving, keep searching for that special someone.

Within a few weeks Waverly had secured a position working for a family in a French ski resort. She was excited at the prospect of being on the move again, although a little daunted by the task which lay before her. Still, in for a penny in for a euro she thought as her plane left the ground on its way to France. The job had started well. She adjusted quickly to living in a French-only speaking household, albeit she had little idea what was being said around her on most occasions. The resort was small and pretty, set high in the French Alps, not far from the Italian border. She began lessons with a local language teacher and things seemed to be working in her favour. But, a few weeks into living with the family she realised this cosy idyll was in reality a cauldron of contempt, boiling over most evenings into explosive arguments between the husband and wife. This trickled down to the two children, whose behaviour was becoming increasingly hard for Waverly to manage. When you live in a household where people hate each other everyone suffers. 

It was on one of those nights, when the husband had been drinking and the wife was screaming at him that things turned nasty. Recognising her husband was too drunk to argue, the wife had turned her anger on Waverly for supposedly leaving a window open while she had gone to get supplies. The vitriol directed at Waverly had sent her running out of the house and had been the reason she called her friend Chrissy to tell her she had had enough. She took her friend’s advice, for once, finding a hotel in the village whose bar was still open. She sat down at one of the small wooden tables, her eyes still red from crying. The bar was empty, which suited Waverly as she really wasn’t in the mood for conversation. A waiter took her order of a hot chocolate and a bowl of fries. Chrissy had meant for her friend to have an alcoholic drink to help her calm down, but she wasn’t in the mood for getting drunk either. She just wanted something warm and comforting to take the raw edge off how lonely she was feeling. 

Gazing at the menu, practising her French, she hadn’t noticed the person approaching her table. It was only when a steaming mug of hot chocolate, with extra cream on top and a bowl of fries were placed in front of her that she looked up. There standing before her was the most beautiful woman Waverly had ever seen. The surprised look on Waverly’s face probably gave away more than she would have liked in that moment. This tall, red-haired goddess was staring down at her, her black chef’s uniform showing off her long slender legs and perfect curves. Exquisite, deep-brown eyes scanned Waverly’s face in confusion, attempting to figure out why someone this pretty was out alone on a cold night with tears in her eyes. The chef spoke first, her soft French accent sending shivers down Waverly’s spine:

“Ça va?” she asked, the tenderness of her voice reassuring Waverly, who could still hear the raised voices of the family she had fled ringing in her head.

Waverly, unable to get any words out in response realised she hadn’t taken her eyes off this woman since coming over to her table. She also realised her mouth had fallen open. Collecting herself, she nodded managing to get a few words out. “Oui. Yes, bien. Merci. The hot chocolate looks delicious.” She really needed to do a lot more work on her French.

“You are British, yes?” the gorgeous chef enquired, as she began wiping away the hot chocolate she’d accidently spilt when putting the mug down. 

“Yes, British,” Waverly offered, still unable to take her eyes off the woman. 

“On holiday?”

“No. I’m working here to learn French. Your English is very good.”

“Not good. Bad, very bad,” Nicole corrected, smiling at Waverly, revealing her adorable dimples. “I learn in America from the TV. J’ai travaille, pardon. Sorry, I work in hotel in New York, but I was very lonely. Now I am here. ”

“Now you are here,” repeated Waverly.

“You stay. I come later?” the chef asked, “I get off one hour. We drink, yes?” 

Waverly’s mind suddenly conjured up images of what this woman might look like in the full throws of an orgasm. She shook her head in an attempt to remove the sexy thoughts that had just entered her mind, especially about someone she’d only just met. “My name’s Waverly,” she offered as the chef turned towards the kitchen.

“I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught,” the woman replied, the silent ‘h’ making her surname sound even more sexy. 

Nicole disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Waverly to her hot chocolate and her thoughts. Perhaps I’ll stick around for a while longer, she contemplated, running her finger through the thick cream, before bringing it up to her lips to taste for the first time.


	2. Alchemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sharing of a drink is the start of something magical....

As soon as her shift ended, Nicole returned to the table where Waverly had waited, bringing with her two glasses of Pernod and a small carafe of water. She placed one glass purposefully in front of Waverly and proceeded to add the water. As it hit the Pernod, Waverly watched in fascination as the liqueur changed from a pale golden colour to cloudy white. The drink’s transformation before her eyes was magical, the alchemy of combining two separate liquids to make something more delicious. Nicole raised the glass to Waverly for her to drink, as she got up to remove the empty mug and bowl that were still on the table.

The strong smell hit Waverly immediately. Aniseed wafts entering her nose, as she brought the glass to her lips to taste: 

“You have before?” Nicole asked, trying to gauge the look on Waverly’s face.

“No. First time,” Waverly choked before launching into a coughing fit. Regaining her composure, they both looked at each other before bursting into laughter. 

“You like?” Nicole questioned, looking directly at Waverly, not sure whether the reaction to a drink she was trying for the first time was good or bad. 

“Oh, God. Yes, I like. Sorry, the drink, yes it’s distinctive.”

Nicole had removed her chef’s apron and black work shirt and was now in a white, tight-fitting T-shirt that contoured her upper body perfectly. She was athletic in build, with well-defined muscles and Waverly could tell she worked out, a lot. Without make-up, her skin looked amazing, fresh with that ever so noticeable ski-resort tan. How could someone, who had just spent hours in a kitchen, look this perfect Waverly thought, realising she was again gazing at Nicole longer than she possibly should. 

“It’s lovely,” was all Waverly could add, sensing her reaction to the drink probably wasn’t the most positive. Seeking another topic, she continued:

“So, why are you here?”

“Money. Here is nice,” Nicole replied, her eyes lowered as she took a sip of her own drink.

“I cook.”

“You cook!” Waverly echoed. Of course she cooks. She’s just come out of a kitchen. For fuck’s sake, girl, get a grip here, her internal voice commanded.

“You cook?” Nicole asked.

“Sort of. If it's in a tin I cook it.”

Nicole looked confused. “You cook tins?”

“No, I just don’t do all the fancy stuff,” Waverly replied, recognising yet again she was talking with a French chef who probably did do all the fancy stuff.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“The army.”

The impressed look on Waverly's face was picked up by Nicole, whose eyes widened. Glancing at her watch, Waverly suddenly realised it was 2am: 

“Crap. I have to get home,” Waverly blurted, pushing out her chair as she stood up.

“I walk you?” Nicole offered.

Waverly paused for a moment. As much as that offer was very, very appealing, she didn’t want her new-found friendship tainted by anything to do with ‘that’ household.

“No, I’m OK. Great to meet you,” she beamed, looking at Nicole, hoping beyond hopes this wouldn’t be the last time they were together.

“We drink again, yes?” Nicole offered. 

“Oh yes, we drink again!”

After exchanging phone numbers, Waverly held out her hand to shake goodbye. Nicole considered the gesture briefly before saying:

“In France we kiss.”

A kiss on each cheek later and Waverly was floating back to the house she had left hours earlier feeling a whole lot better about her life. They say, you know when your soulmate enters your life. Perhaps you do. Or, maybe it is simply a moment when a shift in your life occurs and you only recognise that shift some time afterwards.

Waverly was about to find out what that shift would be.


	3. Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly and Nicole meet again. It's a night of revelation...

The atmosphere in the house the next morning was frosty. Waverly made breakfast for the children, as the husband and wife shuffled around the kitchen and each other in silence. That suited Waverly, who really didn’t want to get into an argument with the couple. Returning to her room to begin her French homework, Waverly’s phone lit up notifying her she had a new text message. At first she thought it might be from Chrissy checking on her. She really should call her friend later to let her know she was OK. It was from Nicole. As she read the text, her heart began to race. Ooh, she’s keen, thought Waverly, trying not to feel too pleased with herself.

Nicole: we drink. Bar Casbah. ce soir à 9. 

Thankfully, Waverly knew enough French to understand this meant to meet at nine o’clock that evening. Bar Casbah was a popular après-ski haunt for a younger crowd on holiday. Perfect, thought Waverly, somewhere lively to get me out of this miserable place for a few hours. 

Waverly: Hi, great. c u there.

Nicole: bisous

Waverly: kisses

Was Nicole flirting with her? No, surely not, pondered Waverly. But, Nicole had just written ‘kisses.’ Then again, the French do like to kiss, a lot. That’s it, concluded, Waverly. She’s just being French. Oh, no. Perhaps I shouldn’t have replied with ‘kisses.’ What if she thinks I’m the one being flirty? No, it’s fine, she’ll understand. But, what if she….

The knock on Waverly’s bedroom door brought her back to the present moment. One of the children wanted their hair brushed, a task she preferred Waverly to do, rather than her own mother who was too rough. Waverly took the brush being held out and began stroking the girl’s hair with it, all the while thinking about being with this intriguing woman again. The one who had served her fries. 

The noise coming from the bar could be heard some distance down the street, as Waverly made her way towards the entrance. It was cold outside, light snow had begun to fall, making the whole experience even more enchanting. She had managed to slip out of the house, without anyone seeing her. Half-expecting the couple to be arguing, their regular evening pastime, the house was quiet and the two children were in bed. Waverly had spent time getting ready. It felt strange dressing up to meet with Nicole. Exciting, but also something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She had chosen to wear her tight-fitting red dress, which she knew brought out all her best assets. Too much? she wondered, as she looked at herself in the mirror. No, it’s perfect.

Waverly scanned the bar, looking for Nicole. It was heaving, fast music blaring from one corner, some customers dancing, multiple conversations going on at once and lots of drinking. Many were still in their ski clothes from a day on the slopes. It was a steamy atmosphere, the kind Waverly liked. People having fun, relaxing, she knew she was in for a good time. She spotted Nicole seated on one of the tall stools next to the bar. Chatting with the barman, Nicole hadn’t noticed Waverly entering. As she approached, the barman stopped talking to look at Waverly, a look that said he liked what he saw. Nicole turned to see who the barman was staring at and immediately stood up, revealing her height once more. She was wearing dark blue figure-hugging jeans and an electric blue shirt, enough buttons undone to expose the top of her bra. Waverly was impressed. 

She smiled, offering to take Waverly’s coat which was slung over her arm before kissing her on each cheek. Waverly would never grow tired of the ‘French’ way of greeting people.

“Remi, mon ami Waverly,” Nicole announced to the barman.

“Bon soir Waverly. Enchanté.”

“Thank you,” Waverly replied, blushing slightly.

“We speak English,” Nicole suggested, sensing a conversation in French might be too much for Waverly.

“Please, if that’s OK. My French isn’t as good as your English, yet.”

“What would like to drink?” Remi asked in his strong French accent.

“Not Pernod!” Nicole recommended, as she and Waverly started laughing.

“A small beer, please.” 

Remi placed the drink on a paper coaster in front of Waverly and sensing he was one too many in this group, moved off to the other side of the bar to serve customers. Waverly took a sip of her drink, wondering what to say to Nicole, nerves beginning to get the better of her.

“So, this place is nice,” was all she could think to say.

“I like it,” Nicole replied. “It’s fun. My friends drink here.”

“What was it like working in New York? I’ve never been,” Waverly asked, desperately trying to recall information Nicole had provided the night before in a bid to find something for them to talk about. 

“New York is big. It’s crazy, but it’s lonely,” Nicole replied, with a wistful look in her eyes. 

“Did you not have friends there?” Waverly probed, wondering how someone as beautiful as Nicole could ever be lonely.

“Some, not many. I had a lover, but she left me.”

Waverly had just taken another sip of beer, which she proceeded to spray across the counter, as Nicole uttered her last sentence.

“OK?” Nicole asked, concerned at Waverly’s inability to consume any drink without drama.

Waverly needed time to process what she’d just heard. Was Nicole saying she was gay? She sat for a moment, not looking at Nicole for fear of giving anything away. After a short pause, she resumed the conversation.

“I know what it’s like to be somewhere where you feel lonely. Your lover. Was she nice?”

“She was a bitch. I loved her. She didn’t love me.”

There was another pause. Waverly knew she had to speak, but wasn’t sure if what she was about to say was the right thing.

“So, you’re gay.”

“Oui. je préfère les femmes. Sorry, yes, I prefer women.”

“And you?”

“Do I prefer women? I’m...I’m, not sure. I’m curious. I had a few, you know, experiments while I was travelling, but," Waverly paused..."I’ve never....I've not been with a woman. Well, not yet…”

Waverly couldn’t fully process what was going on. She knew she was attracted to Nicole and she sensed Nicole was interested in her, but what did it all mean? Where would this lead? Did she want it to lead anywhere? The little voice in her head was whispering: Yes.

Not ready to get into deep conversation about her own sexuality, Waverly changed the subject:

“I spent a lot of time travelling. Mostly Asia.” She proceeded to tell Nicole about her adventures. How she had nearly been strangled by an angry shopkeeper after she complained about finding a cockroach in her ice cream.

“I would save you,” Nicole offered and Waverly knew she would.

The evening drew on as the two sat and laughed, enjoying each other’s company. The crowd in the bar began to thin and as much as Waverly wanted to stay with her new friend, she knew she had to leave.

“I need to go,” Waverly announced as she heard the town’s clock strike midnight.

Waverly got up to put on her coat. “We drink again?” she asked expectantly.

“Of course. We drink again.” Nicole replied.

Standing outside, Waverly made the first move to kiss Nicole on each cheek. As she did, Nicole brought her lips to Waverly’s and kissed her softly. It wasn’t something Waverly was expecting, but it felt amazing. Standing under a street light in the middle of a picturesque ski resort as it snowed, she felt more alive in that moment than she had ever in her life.

The shift had occurred.


	4. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The French adore food. Nicole hopes her cooking is the way to win Waverly's heart...

Waverly lay in her bed. The kiss she had just shared with Nicole continued to dance across her mind, making it impossible for her to sleep. My God, she’s a fantastic kisser, Waverly thought, as she replayed it over and over and over again. Is this something I want? Breathe, Waverly. Take it slow. It’s just a holiday romance, OK, with a woman. Still, I wanted adventure. Just let this run its course. It doesn’t have to be anything. But, what if she…

They met on evenings when Nicole wasn’t working late. It was always fun, always exciting, and yet, for all the fun and laughter, what Waverly craved most was the end of the evening when Nicole would kiss her. From standing in full view under a street light, they had moved to a side alley that ran alongside Bar Casbah and from gentle to full blown French kissing. Hands moving across each other’s back in the vain hope of getting more from each other than a prolonged kiss could ever offer. They both wanted more, but everything needs its own time and place.

As their lips broke away from each other, after one particularly passionate kiss, Nicole looked into Waverly’s eyes.

“You come in my apartment, tomorrow?” 

Waverly felt her knees buckle, as Nicole, sensing Waverly getting heavy in her arms, held her up for support. She had read far too much into what Nicole had just said, before realising she had simply meant for her to visit her flat. Or, did she?

“I help you with French,” Nicole suggested, an offer Waverly was only too happy to accept.

“Yes, please. I need all the oral I can get. Fuck, I mean speaking. I need help speaking,” Waverly corrected, desperately trying to dig her way out of what she had just uttered. Luckily for her, Nicole hadn’t understood Waverly’s ‘slip of the tongue,’ merely looking at her curiously as her new girlfriend became increasingly flustered. 

“What do I bring?”

“You. Red dress. Wine. I cook.”

Waverly couldn’t wait for her day to be over. She had arranged to be at Nicole’s apartment for 7pm. Early enough to eat and then practise her French, she thought. The husband and wife were arguing again downstairs. As Waverly made her way out of the house, the wife spotted her and began shouting obscenities in French. Thankfully, Waverly’s French was still basic enough not to fully understand everything that was being directed at her, but the few swear words she did understand that punctuated the wife’s outburst made her realise she would be far better off out of this household tonight. 

Standing outside Nicole’s apartment, Waverly paused before ringing the doorbell. It was only her and Nicole in Nicole’s flat, having dinner and practising French. Nothing more. God, I hope it’s more, she thought. I hope it’s so much more. 

The aroma of food, as Nicole opened the door, was intoxicating. Waverly had always enjoyed French cuisine, but whatever Nicole was cooking was out of this world. Nicole was standing in the doorway wearing a very tight-fitting black T-Shirt and skinny-fitting dark grey jeans. If Waverly could have made love to her right there, in the hallway of her apartment, she would have, simply by what Nicole was wearing.

Nicole’s apartment was small. The entrance hallway led onto a living space, with two comfortable sofas, arranged around a large glass coffee table. There was a dining table in the corner that had been laid for two people, a small TV on a stand and a bookshelf, which Waverly noted was filled only with books on cooking. Off to the right were two doors, one for a bathroom, the other a kitchen. Beyond, Waverly spotted a door she assumed was to the bedroom. Her stomach dropped on seeing that door. The apartment was basic, furnished for someone who didn’t spend a lot of time there, but it was clean and homely and Waverly liked it immediately. It spoke Nicole. 

“Smells nice,” Waverly commented, realising how lame that sounded as she took in the aroma coming from the kitchen. 

Taking her coat off, revealing the red dress Nicole had suggested she wear, she suddenly felt very exposed. Nicole brought her hands to Waverly’s cheeks and kissed her fully on the lips, which gave her all the reassurance she needed to know this evening would be OK.

They moved to the living room, Nicole indicating Waverly sit on one of the sofas. Nicole opened the bottle of red wine Waverly had brought with her, pouring two glasses. Placing one in front of Waverly, she sat alongside and took a sip.

“It’s good.” Nicole noted, savouring its deep chocolate notes. Waverly had spent ages selecting the perfect wine for the evening, so this was a huge compliment for her.

In that moment, Waverly could have easily moved straight to the bedroom, before realising it would be so much more satisfying to savour everything that was about to happen rather than rush it. Looking for a point of distraction, she asked:

“Your time in the army, what was that like?”

“Hard. But they teach me to cook.”

“Oh, you were a chef.”

“No, Special Forces.”

Waverly sprayed her wine, which she’d just taken a sip of, across the coffee table. This would be a trait Nicole would mention in future stories about what she liked most in her soulmate. 

“You are not good with drink,” Nicole laughed as she wiped away red wine from the coffee table and the spots on her jeans.

“I’m so, so sorry. You were Special Forces!” Waverly looked at Nicole incredulously. “Like the top, full-on military kind?” 

“Wasn’t it dangerous?”

“Yes.”

“As in. Very, very, very dangerous.”

“Yes.”

“Weren’t you scared?”

“Yes. But, it was OK.”

Waverly couldn’t think of anything more to say. Would there ever be an end to the surprises this girl would give her? 

“Come. We eat?” Nicole offered, sensing Waverly was getting lost in what she’d just been told.

Waverly couldn’t take her eyes off Nicole. Here she was with a stunningly attractive woman, who she was beginning to fall for realising there were depths to her she was only just finding out. 

The food Nicole had prepared for Waverly would have been acceptable at any 3-star Michelin restaurant. Waverly had mentioned she was transitioning to a Vegan diet, but still liked fish. In France, everything is eaten, with relish, but Nicole wanted Waverly to enjoy her first culinary experience and had chosen a menu to suit and Waverly would be the first to admit it was spectacular. Nicole really did know how to cook. 

The main part of the meal over, Nicole disappeared into the kitchen, returning with two small servings of chocolate mousse. She placed them on the coffee table and beckoned for Waverly to join her on the sofa. As Waverly sat, Nicole dipped her finger into one of the mousses and offered it to Waverly. She sucked on Nicole’s finger, swooning at a taste so delicious it could almost have given her an orgasm right there.

“Wow. That’s, that’s incredible.”

“I make for you.”

Waverly suddenly didn’t want any more dessert. She wanted Nicole. The hunger that shot across her eyes told Nicole all she needed to know. Placing both hands on Waverly’s shoulders, she pushed her back so that she was lying on the sofa, pressing her lips against her in the most forceful kiss Waverly had ever experienced. It wasn’t rough or needy. It was full on passion released. 

Everything happened so fast. Each fought to get to bare skin quicker than the other, as they accepted what they both wanted. When they came up for air, it was Nicole who sat up having pinned Waverly to the sofa for the past few minutes, in a desperate attempt to get more of the woman she was falling for. Panting, her T-shirt removed and her trousers unzipped, she pulled Waverly off the sofa, leading her towards the bedroom. 

As Waverly entered, she knew this was where she most wanted to be.

Nicole closed the door behind them.

The night had just begun….


	5. England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrissy visits, but it raises questions...

Early morning light streamed into Nicole’s bedroom. It was a new day and a new lover Waverly awoke to and she was very, very happy. She felt Nicole’s body pressed against hers, the occasional soft snore making her more adorable than Waverly thought could be possible. She twisted her body to face Nicole, gently bringing her lips to Nicole's forehead, in part to say thank you for an incredible night and to let her know she was still there in bed with this amazing woman. Nicole shifted slightly, moving her arm further across Waverly’s body in an effort to stay connected.

The night had been everything Waverly had wanted and so, so much more. Nicole, understanding this was Waverly’s first time, took everything at a deliciously slow pace. From the heated passion on the sofa, she cooled every movement down in the bedroom so Waverly could fully experience what it was like to have Nicole make love to her. In turn, she had guided Waverly on where to touch her, softly adjusting Waverly’s hands to let her know the right pressure and speed. Waverly was a fast learner and soon had Nicole tumbling over the edge into her first orgasm with her. 

Nicole opened her eyes to gaze at Waverly. “We learn more French?” she asked, in a half-sleepy voice, wearing a very suggestive smile. 

“Yes, we definitely learn more French!” Waverly replied. 

“Good oral,” Nicole winked, Waverly realising that maybe, just maybe Nicole had understood what she had said previously.

Waverly had kept Chrissy up to speed on Nicole. At first she wasn’t sure how to break it to her best friend that she had found someone, a woman. She knew Chrissy was open-minded, but it wasn’t a conversation they had ever had about who fancied who. They both had gone to the same all-girls school, Waverly being in the year above Chrissy. They knew girls who liked girls, but had never spoken openly about whether that extended to either of them. 

The coach pulled up in the main square late morning, Chrissy’s flight having landed several hours earlier. The journey up to the ski resort was along a winding road, which made Chrissy feel quite ill. Still recovering from the early flight and coach sickness, Chrissy was dozing on the coach when a radiant Waverly bounded on, shaking her friend to say she’d arrived. They hugged for ages, a few tears were shed and both were very pleased to see each other again.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Nicole,” Waverly beamed as she helped Chrissy with her bags. “I know you’ll like her.”

“So, tell me what’s been happening,” Chrissy pressed, eager to know as many details of her friend’s new relationship as she could. They talked non-stop all the way to Chrissy's hotel.

Chrissy had booked a room in a small hotel in the resort. On reaching her room, Waverly left her to settle, promising to return later to introduce her to Nicole.

“I have so many plans for us,” Waverly said excitedly, as she bounced out of Chrissy’s room.

True to her word, Waverly returned to Chrissy’s hotel at two in the afternoon. She knocked on Chrissy’s door, who was just waking up from a siesta. 

“So, where is she?” Chrissy asked, seeing only Waverly standing in the doorway.

“Downstairs in the bar, waiting for us. Quick get your act together, I have somewhere booked for lunch,” Waverly announced, parking herself on the bed while Chrissy got ready. 

Ten minutes later, Chrissy and Waverly were heading downstairs. It was Nicole’s height Chrissy noticed first, then her red hair. Immaculately dressed in her chef’s uniform, Chrissy understood instantly why Waverly had been attracted to her. There was just something indescribable about this woman, a ‘je ne sais quoi,’ as the French would say, that drew you to look at her. There are beautiful women, who know they are beautiful and use it to have the world fall at their feet. Then there are beautiful women, such as Nicole, whose natural beauty radiates out without any intention of using it to their own advantage. Nicole was glancing down at leaflets in a display stand, but on hearing Waverly’s voice lifted her head to greet the two. Chrissy held out her hand for Nicole to shake. Winking at Waverly, Nicole moved in and kissed Chrissy on each cheek.

“In France we kiss,” Nicole instructed, as Waverly let out a nervous giggle, reading far more into the comment than she should.

“We’re going to eat in the hotel where Nicole works. She will cook for us. Her skills are amazing.”

“I bet they are,” Chrissy remarked, it being her turn to wink at Waverly.

Realising what her friend had implied, Waverly feigned a shocked look as the three stood looking at each other.

“We go,” Nicole recommended. “It is close, my hotel.”

Nicole led the way, with Chrissy and Waverly holding back a little. 

“So….what do you think?” Waverly asked, when sufficiently out of earshot.

“I think she’s incredible,” Chrissy remarked. “If I didn’t know she was already taken, I’d be tempted myself. Seriously. The heart eyes she keeps giving you tells me she’s really into you.” 

“Wait till you try her food. It’s to die for. Her speciality is chocolate mousse. Very smooth on the tongue.”

“I bet it is,” Chrissy teased, as the two girls burst into fits of laughter.

The two friends were given special treatment at the restaurant, as waiters served a delicious lunch, which Chrissy affirmed was to die for. At the end of the meal, Nicole brought over her speciality chocolate mousse, standing by the table as the two girls tried it.

“Wow, this is really, really good. Nicole, this is incredible. I can’t get enough of it.” Chrissy commented, after polishing off hers in rapid time. Waverly and Nicole shared knowing glances. 

“It’s orgasmic,” Waverly offered, her eyes still on Nicole but now with the biggest grin on her face. 

“I come later,” Nicole announced, kissing Waverly and Chrissy on each cheek, before heading back to the kitchen.

“I bet she will,” Chrissy teased once more. 

“OK. OK. Stop it,” Waverly ordered, as she playfully slapped her friend’s shoulder, knowing full well at what Chrissy was hinting. “No more, OK.”

Waverly had the day off, so spent the remainder of the afternoon showing Chrissy around the resort. Nicole was working late that night, so they agreed it would be better if Waverly and Chrissy had that time together. As they sat soaking up the evening atmosphere at one of the quieter bars, Chrissy wondered what Waverly had in mind for the future. Waverly only had a few more weeks left in the resort, as her work contract for ‘that’ family was coming to an end, thankfully.

“So, are you still going to go for the airline job?” Chrissy enquired, as she sipped her beer.

“Oh, yes. It’s why I’m here. It would be a waste of everything if I didn’t give it a try.”

"If I get it, I'll base myself in the UK. You'll have to put up with me again." Waverly teased.

Chrissy was silent, contemplating what this would mean for Waverly, rubbing her finger up the side of her glass to capture beer that was trickling down.

“Have you discussed this with Nicole?” Chrissy probed, after a few moments of silence. 

“Kind of. OK, no. Not exactly. She knows I want to work for an airline and travel. I may have, sort of, you know, not mentioned the part about me wanting to live in England,” she explained, wincing, as the realisation dawned on her that this might be something she needed to discuss with Nicole. 

“Nicole has a month left on her contract. After that, she’s not sure what she wants to do. She did say she wants to be with me. So, we’ll see. Perhaps, she’ll come to England. Who knows?”

“Is that what you both want?” Chrissy persisted, sensing the two of them really hadn’t thought much beyond their current arrangement. Chrissy was surprised Waverly hadn’t taken this in hand. She knew Waverly was a planner and this didn’t seem like something she would overlook. 

“OK. You probably need to sit down and have THAT conversation with Nicole, sooner rather than later. Don’t leave it until the last minute, when you haven’t left enough time to figure out what you two really have and where it might go from here.” Chrissy advised.

“OK, mother,” Waverly sighed, rolling her eyes at Chrissy. “I hate you being so wise.”

“You don’t,” Chrissy winked.

“You’re right, I don’t. Where would I be without you?” Waverly replied, raising her glass to her friend to acknowledge she knew what Chrissy was suggesting made perfect sense.

The last evening of Chrissy’s holiday was spent with Waverly and Nicole in Bar Casbah, a place she too had come to like. They chatted, laughed, danced and drank into the early hours, all three not wanting the evening to end. But, sad as they are, there must be endings for there to be beginnings. It was Chrissy who was the one to break up the group, explaining she had the coach journey to endure the next morning, one she didn’t want to undertake with a hangover. This would be the final time she would see her friend before departing. She pulled Waverly to one side and repeated her advice.

“Talk to her. Find out what she wants to do. I’m sure it’ll be fine. She loves you.”

Waverly was still hugging her friend, as Nicole approached. 

“I need to go. Long journey tomorrow,” Chrissy explained to Nicole. “So glad to have finally met you. Can’t wait to see you again, in England hopefully. I know, I know. In France, we kiss,” Chrissy laughed as she gave Nicole a kiss on each cheek before hugging her.

As Chrissy left, Nicole turned to Waverly with a questioning look on her face.

“Am I going to England?” She asked, knowing she hadn’t made any such decision yet.

“We really need to talk,” Waverly replied.


	6. Robinet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to Paris goes very wrong...

"OK, about me going for the airline job," Waverly began, knowing this would be one of those defining conversations in their relationshp.

"Nothing to say I'll get it. But, if I did, I was thinking I would base myself in the UK."

Nicole was silent.

"I haven't got it yet, so no reason to make plans that far in advance, although, if I did and I was in the UK."

Nicole remained silent.

"You could visit, or stay, or..." Waverly paused, scanning Nicole's face for a reaction. "Or, you could live with me. What do you think?"

Further silence.

"If you wanted to. I mean, I think, I guess. Nothing settled, but..."

"You want England," Nicole interrupted, looking directly at Waverly.

"I mean. I'm thinking about it. It would work for me if I get the job, but..."

"You want England," Nicole repeated, her voice firm, her gaze fixed.

"Well, I do. Would it work for you?" Waverly asked hesitantly.

Nicole was silent once more, pondering what she was being asked.

"I want you," she answered.

"Oh God, I want you too, " Waverly affirmed, moving her body closer to Nicole. "In England?"

"Of course, in England. You go, I go."

Waverly squealed in delight, pulling Nicole in to kiss her.

It was settled. Waverly would return to England as soon as her contract working for that family ended and Nicole would join her once her contract finished. In an effort to prolong their time together, they would spend a few days in Paris with Shae. Nicole worked extra shifts to make up for the time she would have off and to give them extra spending money.

Shae's apartment was located in Little Africa, a lively, exotic district on the outskirts of Paris, close to the hospital where she worked as a doctor. The area was well known to tourists seeking to experience Paris by night. Many made their way there after dark to enjoy the sex shops, theatres and adult shows in Pigalle and its surrounding boulevards. As Waverly, Nicole and Shae made their way up the stairs, lugging heavy bags Shae mentioned they had all been invited to a party the following evening, which she had accepted on their behalf.

"Great," Waverly panted, realising Shae's apartment was on a higher floor than she remembered. "I hope I have something decent to wear."

"Red dress," Nicole offered.

After a light meal, they fell into bed, exhausted from their journey.

"I will not let you go," Nicole vowed, as she caressed Waverly's hair.

"To the party?" Waverly questioned, half-asleep, her eyes closed, too tired to have a conversation.

"Forever," Nicole whispered.

They spent the next day strolling around Paris, taking in the sights, enjoying their own company. On entering Shae's apartment they spotted Robinet seated at the dining table, thumbing through a magazine. His arrogance betrayed him as he made no effort to greet the couple. Shae emerged from the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Hope you had a good day. The meal will be ready shortly, if the soufflés behave themselves. Robinet, play nicely," she warned.

Robinet shot her a look to say, "maybe, maybe not."

Turning his gaze to Nicole. "So, you are army."

"Special Forces," Waverly corrected proudly, squeezing Nicole's hand.

"Is that so. Did you fight?"

"A little," Nicole replied, not sure what to make of Robinet.

"I like a fight," Robinet muttered, as he returned his gaze to the magazine in front of him.

"We need to change for the party," Waverly announced, pulling Nicole towards the bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she reassured Nicole, who was looking agitated. "Ignore Robinet, he likes to get under people's skin. It's his entertainment. He's a lawyer."

Shae knocked on their door to say drinks were being served. 

"Waverly you look ravishing in that dress," Robinet remarked as they entered the room. " Perfect colour choice, do you not agree soldier?" taking Waverly's hand and kissing it. 

Waverly blushed, pulling her hand away while looking at Nicole, who was now glaring at Robinet. Nicole's army training had taught her to assess the enemy before making a move and this guy had just made himself the enemy.

Wine was poured, food consumed and the evening progressed fairly cordially. Robinet consumed wine like water, which seemed to dampen his desire to antagonise Nicole, at least while Shae was in the room. He was charming, funny, attentive of Waverly, something Nicole watched without saying anything. Shae got up to clear plates, helped by Waverly, heading into the kitchen laughing. As they disappeared, Robinet poured himself another glass of wine.

"Don't worry, I'm not interested in her....You know she deserves better than a soldier."

Robinet liked to see people squirm as he burrowed into their emotions. A keen observer, he sought out weaknesses to exploit for his own enjoyment. The more pain he caused, the more pleasure he got, regardless of the cost to those involved. 

Nicole remained silent, staring intently at Robinet. Inside, her emotions were at boiling point ready to attack. Do not play games with me, she thought, you will not win.

The party was being held in a swanky, top-floor apartment in the centre of Paris, boasting floor-to-ceiling glass walls on two sides of the main living area and a long balcony providing panoramic views of the Seine and the city beyond. An awkward taxi ride brought them to the address, Nicole remaining silent for the duration of the journey. Waiters were serving drinks on arrival. As they entered, Nicole grabbed a glass of champagne and drank it in one go. The evening descended from that point onwards. Nicole, in a desperate attempt to drown her emotions, became increasingly drunk.

Concerned at how drunk Nicole was becoming, Waverly pulled her aside and suggested they head home. "Robinet thinks perhaps we call it a night," she offered, but was met by look on Nicole's face she had not seen before. It was one of anger. Sensing she had offended Nicole, she kissed her gently on the cheek. "I'm sorry, tell me what you want to do." 

"I stay," Nicole growled, grabbing another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and storming off. 

Realising she probably did need to go home, Nicole spotted Shae talking with another guest, as both looked out over the city. 

"Where's Waverly?" she asked, as she approached the pair.

"I think I saw her go out on the balcony. You can get to it here," Shae offered, opening a glass door in front of her for Nicole. 

As Nicole stepped out on the balcony she saw Waverly at the other end with Robinet. He had his hands around her waist and she had her hands on his shoulders. They were laughing and swaying, enjoying each other's company. It was the tipping point for Nicole, who rushed towards them without considering any of the actions she was about to take. Grabbing Robinet, she pulled him off Waverly, ripping the seam of his jacket in the process. Realising he was no match for Nicole, he slithered away, leaving her alone with Waverly. 

Placing a hand each side, Nicole pinned Waverly against the top metal bar of the balcony, moving closer to her ear.

"You let him," was all she could say, suddenly seeing fear in Waverly's eyes. 

"Waverly, I..." Nicole uttered, realising they were both leaning too far out over the balcony.

Guests heard Waverly's scream and came running. They saw Nicole holding onto Waverly, who had lost her balance. To those who witnessed, it looked as if Nicole was attempting to push Waverly over the balcony. Her red dress was torn slightly at the shoulder. The whole scene looked a mess. Some guests gasped, as Nicole pulled Waverly back towards her and safety. It was too much for Nicole to bear. She had nearly killed the person she loved in a moment of pure rage. Unable to right the wrong, Nicole fled the party.

Robinet had won.


	7. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole makes the journey to Waverly...

It began raining, as Nicole fled the party. She ran for as long as she could, desperate to be as far away from the scene she had created, before stopping to gather her thoughts. In her hurry to get away, she had left her warm jacket, along with her phone and wallet. She was now utterly alone, in an unfamiliar city, without any protection against the bitterly cold rain that was soaking into her thin, short-sleeved T-shirt. Without money, she had no means of getting anywhere other than on foot. Without her phone she couldn't call anyone. She couldn't even call Waverly to say how sorry she was. The situation was hopeless.

Nicole slumped down on a bench, lifting both hands to her face to wipe away trickles of water. Only then did she realise it wasn't only rain on her face, but tears too. Sickened by what she had put Waverly through, she wished more than anything in the world she could take back her actions. How had she allowed herself to be outplayed by Robinet? How had she thrown away the love of her life, because of what she saw on that balcony? How? How could I have been so stupid? Nicole wondered, hugging herself, as the cold, wet night seeped into her. The fear of losing Waverly, the fear of her being with someone else had driven Nicole to do something unforgivable. Waverly would never take her back after what she had done, Nicole despaired.

Perhaps Robinet was right all along, Nicole concluded. Waverly deserved better.

Waverly was beside herself with worry. Hoping Nicole would return to the party, she had remained with Shae until the final guests were leaving. She rang Nicole's phone countless times, only for it to go to voicemail, without realising Nicole didn't have it with her. Robinet had taken a taxi to his own apartment, shortly after the incident. Nobody missed him and Shae was beginning to think she might be better off without someone who could behave the way he had that evening. 

"Let's go back to my apartment," Shae offered, putting a comforting arm around her. "I'm sure she's OK. She's probably waiting for us there, anyway. Come, let's get our coats, I'll order a taxi." It was then they realised Nicole had left everything behind.

"No, no, no," Waverly sobbed, now realising Nicole was out on a bitterly cold, wet night, with nothing and no one to protect her. No amount of Special Forces training would be enough to survive such awful conditions. 

Nicole had spent the past two hours sitting, contemplating her options. She was cold, wet, tired and still drunk. She knew she needed to find shelter and warmth if she was to survive the night, but her mind refused to let her body move. It was treating the predicament she now found herself in as a punishment for what she had done to Waverly. But, no amount of suffering on her part would resolve the situation. She needed to find Waverly, beg forgiveness, or, at least have the chance to say goodbye. Figuring Waverly would have returned to Shae's, she began the long journey on foot that would take her the rest of the night.

Shae had suggested Waverly get some rest, but she was too distraught to even think about sleeping. She paced the apartment most of the night, checking her watch, looking out the window as heavy rain continued to fall. As dawn came, she was frantic.

"I can't bear it," she repeated over and over, worried sick about Nicole. 

"Look, I know the situation isn't great," Shae acknowledged "but, she's tough and clever. She'll be OK."

"What if she's not?" Waverly sobbed. " What if she's not? "

"We'll find her, OK," Shae reassured, hugging her friend.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shae rolled her eyes, assuming it would be Robinet. 

"If you've come to apologise, don't bother," she shouted, as she moved to open the door to her apartment.

There, standing in the doorway was Nicole. She was soaked, shivering uncontrollably, her hair matted around her face, looking utterly defeated. Having followed Shae to the door, Waverly let out a scream when she saw Nicole.

"Oh God, baby, you're drenched, come inside," Waverly begged, rushing to help her.

Nicole remained in the doorway, unable to take the final steps towards Waverly. She looked at her with the saddest eyes Waverly had ever seen and it broke her heart. All she could whisper was: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Nicole, it's OK, please, please come in, you're soaking wet," moving towards her.

The last thing Nicole saw was Waverly's face as she collapsed in her arms.

Still unconscious, a dead weight in their arms, they carried Nicole to the bedroom, laying her on the bed. Removing her wet clothes, Shae got extra blankets to wrap her in an effort to bring her body temperature up. 

"Professional opinion, she has all the symptoms of hypothermia," Shae observed, standing at the foot of the bed, as Waverly attempted to dry Nicole's hair. "It's mild, I believe, but still serious. We need to keep her warm and give her fluids when she comes round. If her condition deteriorates, I'll call the hospital. Waverly, you need to take your clothes off and lie next to her under the blanket."

"It's hardly the time!" Waverly exclaimed, not fully understanding Shae's instruction.

"She needs your body heat. Skin to skin contact is the most effective way to warm Nicole," Shae explained. 

"Oh, right. Got it," Waverly replied, removing her clothes and getting under the blankets to snuggle up to Nicole. 


	8. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly have a break through moment in their relationship...

Nicole shifted slightly, her first movement in hours since she stopped shivering. 

"Baby, I'm here, I've got you," Waverly soothed, as she stroked Nicole's hair. Nicole mumbled something in French, which Waverly could just make out.

"Désolée (I'm sorry)."

"My beautiful darling, I know you are. It's OK. I'm sorry too. I love you so, so much. Do you hear me," tears welling in Waverly's eyes as she pulled herself closer to Nicole.

Nicole opened her eyes, a look of confusion on her face, as she took in her surroundings, trying to work out how she had ended up naked, in bed, with Waverly beside her. It didn't make sense. She remembered walking for hours in the rain, following tourist maps outside each Metro station she came across to guide her to Little Africa. She had struggled to find Shae's apartment, but her army training had helped her navigate unfamiliar streets to locate it finally. She had stood in a doorway for an hour, looking up at the lights in Shae's apartment, desperately wanting to see Waverly, too afraid of being rejected. Now, she was lying next to Waverly and it didn't make sense.

Shae entered the bedroom. Seeing Nicole awake, she came over to feel her skin.

"Hi there, your temperature is improving. How do you feel?" Shae asked.

"Cold, sore," Nicole croaked. "How am I here? "

"You collapsed," Shae advised. "We carried you inside. You gave us quite a scare."

Hearing those words, Nicole sat up suddenly, the memory of what she had done on the balcony flooding her mind. She turned to face Waverly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Waverly, I...I did...I....I...your dress," as tears replaced words, unable to stop her emotions from overflowing in that moment.

"My darling, It's OK. Nicole, it's OK," Waverly soothed. "You did nothing wrong. It was an accident. No one got hurt. See, I'm here with you," both now realising they were naked, with Shae staring at them.

"I'll bring you a warm drink," Shae offered, recognising they needed time alone. As the door closed, Waverly took Nicole's hand and placed it over her heart.

"See, still here. I'm not going anywhere. You can't get rid of me that easily," she said, caressing Nicole's hair. "Robinet is an ass. He's jealous of what we have. He said as much on the balcony. I hate him so much right now. I don't think Shae is too impressed with him either. He wanted to drive a wedge between us, to split us. He couldn't.

Waverly paused, looking directly at Nicole: "But, he did show us something we need to talk about."

Nicole looked worried.

"You've got to trust me," Waverly continued. " I'm yours, no one else's. Got it. I'm not leaving you, for someone else. This is it, Nicole. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Nicole replied. A pause... "Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

They hugged at the airport, as Waverly's flight was called for boarding. Nicole couldn't take her eyes off her, watching until the last moment before she disappeared through the gate. Two weeks, only two weeks before she would see her again, Nicole reassured herself.

Waverly had already started looking for places for them to live before departing France. She had spotted a quaint little cottage to rent on the outskirts of a village close to Windsor. A perfect, romantic location for them to begin their new life together. She had shown Nicole the photos of the cottage, who agreed it would be a good place. For now.

As soon as her contract ended, Nicole packed her belongings and headed to England. She couldn't wait to be with Waverly, who had called several times each day checking on her, provide updates on the cottage and her upcoming interview with British Airways.

Chrissy helped them move into the cottage, bringing spare furniture to get them started. She agreed, it was very romantic, apart from the fact it had no heating. Part of a larger estate, the owners rented out various smaller buildings to pay for the upkeep of the main house. The cottage did have an open fire in the living room, where the three gathered drinking wine late into the night, laughing, telling stories, being together.

The day of Waverly's interview was upon them and she was very nervous. Nicole had been helping Waverly with her French since meeting, so she was fairly fluent. She desperately wanted the job, but she also wanted to be with Nicole. If she got the job, it would mean two weeks away each month travelling. Time they no longer wanted to spend apart, but also not so much of a strain on the relationship given the new depth they had reached.

Nicole waited at home for news. The hours ticked by and she was beginning to get anxious. Shortly after 4pm Waverly came through the door looking exhausted.

"OK?" Nicole asked, not sure if the interview went well or not.

"OK," Waverly replied, without much emotion. "I think I did enough, but who knows. At least I passed my French oral."

"Of course," Nicole winked.

Both looked at each other and laughed.

"I'll run you a bath," Nicole offered, "then we eat."

Two weeks went by and still no news from British Airways. Waverly was becoming despondent. All her plans had revolved around her getting this job. Still, if she didn't, perhaps they could go travelling together, or move to another country. It would certainly open up their options. 

Nicole had left for work. She had secured a job in a French restaurant in Windsor. It was good pay, the hours were reasonable, she had a couple of evenings off each week and she could speak French in the kitchen. Her phone rang just after 11am, with a very excited Waverly.

"I've got. I've got the job. Nicole, we did it. Please don't be too late home, I need to thank you for all those French lessons."


	9. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are meant for keeps....

Nicole had her eyes fixed on the TV, watching some documentary on wild animals, when Waverly entered the living room wearing her new British Airways uniform.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, noticing Nicole was still watching the TV. "Nicole, what do you think?" she repeated.

Nicole turned to see what Waverly wanted her to look at and her mouth fell open. The tight uniform fitted Waverly perfectly. Dark blue pencil skirt, white tailored shirt, red neck scarf, completed by a figure-hugging dark blue jacket. It was the sexiest outfit Nicole had ever seen.

"Nicole, your mouth is open," Waverly laughed, twirling around to show her every angle.

"It's perfect," Nicole managed to say, unable to take her eyes off her gorgeous girlfriend. "But, let me see," she continued, beckoning Waverly to her.

Still seated, Nicole put her hands on Waverly's waist and turned her round, slowly unzipping her skirt at the back. As it fell to the ground, Nicole exclaimed: "You can't work like that!" realising Waverly had nothing on underneath.

"I'm not in work," she winked, pulling Nicole off the sofa and leading her to the bedroom, to continue their christening of the new uniform. They emerged several hours later, satisfied it was indeed a very sexy outfit.

Waverly was having the time of her life in her new job. Fantastic locations around Europe, excellent hotels for air crew to stay in while flying and one too many parties, well-oiled by Duty Free booze. It was everything she had hoped for and more. It suited her personality, mixing with people, seeing new sights, being free. She would always ring Nicole when she had finished a flight, eager to tell her everything. She missed Nicole dreadfully, but her new life kept her occupied enough to take the edge off her loneliness.

The first two weeks of Waverly being away were the hardest for Nicole. She rattled around the cottage, which felt even colder without her lover. She had her work in the restaurant, which kept her busy and Chrissy dropped in on occasions to have coffee and a chat. But, Nicole was adrift in a country that wasn't her home and it weighed on her.

The pattern of their new life repeated itself over the following months. They accepted it, but something was missing. Both felt it, but each thought it simply must be part of the process of adjusting to a new life together. Nicole had more time to contemplate their situation and it gradually dawned on her. Their lives lacked a sense of permanency. Everything had a feeling of being for now, not forever. 

After a wonderful meal one evening, Nicole felt the time was right to mention how she felt to Waverly. 

"We need to talk," she began, eyes lowered in an effort to think of the best way to explain her feelings. "I like it here. I like what we have," pausing before saying "but, it's not home."

"I feel that too!" Waverly exclaimed. "I'm so glad you said it. I thought it was just me. So, what do we do?"

"We need a home," Nicole suggested, knowing what she had been thinking over the past few months.

"You're right, but where?"

"France."

Nicole began the process of finding a home for them. She called her family to tell them the news and they were overjoyed. They would assist in the search for a house for the couple. Nicole knew she wanted to live close to the village where she grew up, a beautiful part of France, in the Burgundy region. It would also be close enough to the main city of Lyon for Waverly to use for work.

A few weeks into the search, Nicole's mother called to say she had found the perfect house for them. An 18th century silk mill had come on the market for a reasonable price. An older couple had begun restoring the eight bedroom property, with a view to running it as a bed and breakfast venture, but had lost interest. Set in a forest, where wild boar roamed, it had lots of living space and a substantial garden. It was secluded, but only a short drive to the nearest town. Nicole's mother had joked it had enough rooms for a family should they ever consider. Nicole had, but one step at a time.

The relocation to France went smoothly. Nicole's family helped unpack boxes, Nicole provided wine and food. It was everything Waverly had ever wanted. A loving partner, a beautiful house, in a truly romantic setting. As she stood in front of her guests to say thank you for all their help, emotions got the better of her, breaking down in floods of tears.

Nicole rushed to console her and everyone cheered.

"I'm so happy it's untrue," Waverly whispered, hugging Nicole, laughing and crying at the same time.

There was still a lot of work to do on the mill, but they were perfectly happy to take this on, knowing they were building something together. Nicole had a new job in the larger town, running a restaurant. It was hard, long hours, but the money was very good, which allowed them to indulge their dreams for the mill. 

"So, how's the renovation going?" Chrissy asked one evening in her regular catch-up call to Waverly.

"Slow, but, we'll get there. Listen, I need to ask you a favour," Waverly replied.

"OK, what is it? " Chrissy asked. "Anything, as long as it's not painting. I can't stand painting. So boring."

"Would you be my Maid of Honour?"

Waverly had to hold the phone away from her ear, as Chrissy screamed at the other end.

"Are you serious? You're getting married? I'm so happy for you both. When? Where? What do I wear?" Chrissy rambled, too excited by the news.

"We're still working on the details, but it will be here at the mill, hopefully in the garden if the weather is good," Waverly advised.

The wedding was set for the summer. On a beautiful sunny day, family and friends gathered in the garden to see Nicole and Waverly get married. Nicole had chosen a delicate, baby blue suit, complemented by a mid-blue shirt. She looked stunning. On the arm of the proudest father in the world, Waverly emerged from the house wearing the most exquisite cream silk long wedding dress anyone in attendance had ever seen. Tears welled in Nicole's eyes as she saw her. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have found Waverly and to be standing, waiting to be married to her soulmate.

It was a beautiful ceremony. They exchanged vows and rings. Each gave a speech on their love for the other. There were very few dry eyes by the end. The celebrations went on long into the night. Nicole's uncle provided all the wine and local champagne to toast the newlyweds. There was a lot of wine consumed. Most of Nicole's village came in the evening, knowing free wine and food was available. Chrissy was rather taken by some of Nicole's army friends who had come in their dress uniform. 

She found Waverly talking to some guests in French in the kitchen. Chrissy took her friend's arm and led her out into the garden, walking arm in arm as they soaked up the warm atmosphere of a party in full swing.

"So, will we hear the patter of tiny feet?" Chrissy asked, finding a couple of vacant seats at the end of the garden.

"Possibly," Waverly replied. "There's quite a lot of mice in the mill," knowing full well what Chrissy was suggesting.

"We've discussed it. There's a few options we're pursuing. Fingers crossed, legs not, as they say."

A year into their new life in France, sitting at the kitchen table one evening after a long day working on the mill, Nicole poured two glasses of wine for them to relax. Waverly took a sip of hers and immediately spat it back into her glass.

"Yuck, this tastes off," she exclaimed.

Nicole took a sip of hers. "It's fine. It is you. You have a drink problem," she said laughing.

"Bet I can make you spit out your wine," Waverly teased.

"How much?" Nicole challenged.

"Ten euros says I can."

Taking a mouthful of wine, Nicole waited for Waverly to lose her bet.

"I'm pregnant...."

"I'll get a cloth."

In love and light (& French fries).


End file.
